


Friday, I'm In Love

by greeksilk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, M/M, Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:00:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeksilk/pseuds/greeksilk
Summary: 1993.Dean Winchester is a poor as dirt, Kansas boy who has major daddy issues.Castiel Novak is a rich, pure as a Passover lamb, Connecticut boy repressing his sexuality.And then Dean and his brother Sam gets accepted into Saint Thomas Aquinas Academy, the most prestigious religious school in America.The rest plays out like a slow burning, crappy, 80s rom-com, fit with a soundtrack composed of the two most diverse bands: The Smiths, and The Sex Pistols.Strap in.





	1. Disownment 101

 

May, 1993.

Lawrence, Kansas.

Life as Dean Winchester knows it is about to change.

He never expected for the school to get his application, let alone read it.

But what he didn’t even dream about was the words printed on the cream colored paper.

 

_Saint Thomas Aquinas Academy_

_May 12th, 1993_

_“Dear Mr. Winchester,_

_We have looked over your application, and despite  your less than stellar grades, have been willing to accept you and your brother on grounds of active pursuit of enrolment and excellent recommendations. Noting your family’s annual income , a fully paid ride will be provided for both you and your brother. You will start on the first day of term. Accommodations will be made concerning your arrival to school. We recommend you inform your family of this information. Attached is a supply and uniform list.  Assistance will be provided if needed._

_Sincerely,_

_Father Richard Roman, Head of School.”_

 

Dean couldn’t believe the words he saw. Being accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in America was something he was _not_ expecting, especially since he isn’t like his kid brother, Sam. Sure, Dean was smart, but he didn’t like school. He was one of those kids who would rather learn at his own time and his own pace, not at the pace of the school system. But there was something that bugged Dean about all this: how would his father react? Seeing as John didn’t even know Dean sent the letter in to the school in the first place. John was one of those deadbeat dads who didn’t care about his kids. In fact, there were only two things John Winchester cared about: beer and Sunday night football. John Winchester was not a man known for caring about either of his son’s education. Dean figured he would just pray John would be in a good mood coming home from work.

Dean snapped out of his thoughts, the deadbolt unlocking. Sam was home. He rushed to his “bedroom”, stashing the letter in the skin mag he hid in his pillowcase.

 

“Dean? You home?” Sam’s voice called. Sam was younger than Dean by 3 and ½ years, but to be honest, it seemed like Sam was older than Dean.

 

“In my room.” Dean jumped at the sound of his kid brother's voice. He tried to act normal, but he was never really good at that.

 

“Hey.” Sam appeared in the doorway. For being only 14, he was already almost 6’0”. His hair was long, which Dean hated. He always said Sam looked like a puppy.

 

“Hey Sammy, how was school?”

“Good, we had a math test that I’m pretty sure I failed.”

“You, failing a test? You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure the teacher set it up to see us fail.”

“That’s cruel, man.”

“Has dad been home yet?”

“Nope, and I have a feeling he’s going to be in a good mood.”

Dean could not have been more wrong.

5 minutes after their conversation, the boys were doing their own things, Sam studying, Dean watching some stupid TV show. And that’s when Dean heard the engine. His father still drove the 1967 Chevrolet Impala he bought after he got out of Vietnam. The sound of the car door slamming disproved all of his former thoughts. John Winchester was drunk and raging mad. Every inch of dust in that house knew. Dean just grit his teeth and prepared for Armageddon.

 

And that’s when he realised, the envelope.

The envelope with the words _“Saint Thomas Aquinas Academy”_ on them.

“Damnit,” he thought. John walked into the door, the scene playing out like a Stephen King novel. He walked over to the fridge, getting a beer. And then he noticed the envelope, sitting on the table, a overdue light bill sitting right next to it.

“Dean, what’s this?” His tone was sharp. Sharp like the window John smashed on Dean’s 5th birthday when Dean complained he didn’t get anything.

“Nothing, sir.” Rule one of the John Winchester/Dean Winchester relationship: **Never call John “dad” or anything related to that God-forsaken word.**

“Nothing? Well, son, it looks to me like this is a letter to a private school.” The room went cold. Sam had scurried off somewhere, probably the roof.

“D-Sir, it’s nothing, I promise.” John could tell that was a lie. And then came the Miller Lite bottle flying towards his head.

“You wanna explain to me what the _fuck_ this is, Dean? Hm?”

“I swear, It’s nothing.”

“Bull. You know _damn_ well we can’t afford this. We can barely afford to live here!”

“Dad, it’s a free ride, a-and it’s a boarding school. You can just ship me and Sam off and not worry about us.” Dean felt John grab his shirt collar,

“What have I told you about calling me dad?”

“N-not to?”

“EXACTLY. Then why did you do it?”

“I didn’t mean to! Please, just let me be.” John paused. To Dean, it was the most scared he’s ever been, but he would never admit it.

“Did you say it was a boarding school, kid?”

“Y-yes sir, a-and you wouldn’t have to pay a dime.” Except for uniforms and supplies, Dean thought.

“Hm. When do you start?”

“August.”

“You’re going. And just so you know, you and your kid brother are no longer my kin. You hear?”

“Yes sir.”

Sam is gunna love this, Dean thought, sighing slightly. You get one good thing then immediately following it, one bad thing. Must be the Winchester curse.

 


	2. August Rising

Castiel was tired.

He had stayed up too late. Granted, he always stayed up late. Overthinking every single little problem that plagues everyone from here to Mexico. Or that’s what it seemed like. In reality, Cas was reading Vonnegut and listening to the same Smiths record he had been listening to since last June.

And now Castiel Novak found himself enduring the hour long drive that has tormented his soul since the age 14. But, instead of being in the passenger seat, he was driving. He looked over to see his sister, Anna, who had just felt the harsh kiss of age 14. She was asleep, after being up all night stressing over what to wear.

 

“ _And heaven knows I’m miserable now.”_ Cas was humming along as they passed the " _Welcome to Prospect, Connecticut!”_ Sign. Halfway done, Cas thought. He always longed to move closer to school. But _no._ Father always insisted they “Must stay in Bethel.” All because their mother was buried in the cemetery at their parish. And heaven forbid they leave her soul. Cas just wished he could move in with Aunt Amara, but dad always said no.

 

No seemed to be Chuck Novak’s favorite word. No this, no that.

That was Eve Novak’s least favorite word. She always said yes. Yes this, yes that.

Chuck and Eve were polar opposites. And that’s how they worked. The “Heaven-chosen dynamic” as Father Simon called it, made the two high school sweethearts last for 10 years.

 

Until that fateful day in October.

 

Cas snapped out of his thoughts, realizing they were now in Hartford. He always liked Hartford, how it was essentially a small town New York.

 

It wasn’t long until they arrived. Castiel reveled in seeing the sign. “ _Saint Thomas Aquinas Academy.”_ He drove the car to the girl’s rooms. He tapped Anna’s shoulder, jostling out of her sleep.

 

“Huh? Wha-?”

“We’re here, A.”

“O-oh, okay. Do you-”

“Do I mind to help you get your things up to your room? Not at all.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

He helped Anna get her things into the building and start getting settled.

“So, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later Cas.”

“Hey Anna? Try not to get into trouble, okay?”

She laughed. Anna had this, dry laughter that you could point out from halfway across a room.

“Hey Cas? Try to make some friends, okay?”

“Man, you are a _jerk_ sometimes.”

“I try.”

He left Anna with a smile and walked out of the room. She was the only good thing Cas had left.


	3. In Which Oliver Meets Elio (And Other Analogies)

The minute Dean drove the old 1965 Chevrolet Chevelle he borrowed from Uncle Bobby through the gates of Saint Thomas Aquinas Academy, he felt out of place. This place was the _exact_ opposite of him and Sam. This was a place for rich, goody-two-shoes, which Sam and Dean were not.

 

Dean had managed to find Sam’s room and get him settled. Now he was tasked with finding his own room and getting settled. He looked down at the paper: “ _Room F, Floor 2.”_

 

“Now, if I were room F, where the hell would I be?” He mumbled to himself.

And that’s when he saw him.

Well, the back of him.

And _Damn._

Dean’s seen attractive men before.

But none like this.

His body was muscular, but he was still small.

He had to be around 5’10”, because he was shorter than Dean, but not as short as his ex, Lisa.

Dean noticed the way his skin looked. He was pale, like silk.

His body curved in ways that reminded Dean of the phrase "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." 

Dean was  _pretty_ sure the road to hell was  _not_ straight.

And Dean just had to drop the boxes he was holding.

 _He_ turned around.

His eyes were ocean blue, his face very reminiscent of Michelangelo's " _David”_ or a Greek god.

“Can I help you?” His voice was light, yet still commanding, Like a rainstorm while the sun is still out.

“Uh yeah, I’m looking for room F?”

“Well, it seems you’ve found it.” What did he mean by that?

“Pardon?”

The blue eyed boy chuckled, a rich, cool, laugh like the Mississippi river, he moved away from the wall he was leaning on, revealing a black sign with a gold letter F on it.

“You’re rooming with me.”

And under that letter read:

_Castiel Novak_

_Dean Winchester_

This could be a disaster.

Dean snapped back into reality at the sound of the blue eyed boy, which he know knew was named Castiel (What kind of name is that?) coughing.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. So you must be Mr. Winchester, I’m Castiel Novak, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

One thing Dean knew: he has  _never_ been this flustered around men, _ever._

“So, do you need any help, Dean?”

Dean noticed the 3 boxes he had so conveniently dropped moments before.  
“Nah, I-I got it.”

“Are you sure?” There was that laugh again. That God-forsaken laugh.

“Yea-No, I don’t.”

And then his hand was suddenly on Dean’s. 

Dean's blood boiled, he was-  _absolutely smitten_ with Castiel Novak. And he didn't even know him.

Not yet, at least.

Castiel helped Dean get the boxes into the room they were sharing.

And then Dean found himself, lying on the bottom bunk, realizing what this could all mean.

He was doomed.


	4. Good God, The Altar Boy's Gay

Castiel always knew he liked boys.

His mother knew.

His sister knew.

His aunt knew.

Everyone, but his father knew.

And that was to remain solid teflon until one of them died.

Chuck Novak had nothing against homosexuals.

Unless, that is, a descendant of the Novak family (Amara’s children included) was one.

He believed that not because he was a cold-hearted man, but because he was raised on it.

Chuck Novak wanted his son to be the “Quintessential Catholic.” And by insuring that to be true, Cas was an altar boy.

 

From ages 5-13, Cas was an altar boy at the Church of St. Mary in Bethel, Connecticut.

And then age 14 hit.

This was when Cas realized stealing his dad’s  _ Playboy  _ didn’t work for him.

But stealing his mom’s  _ People  _ did.

He remembered the exact date he found one.

September, 25th 1990.

It was People’s “ _Sexiest Man Alive”_ issue.

And on the cover, there sat Thomas Cruise.

Now, at first, Cas didn’t find him attractive.

But then he ripped the cover off, stuck it to his closet wall with some tape, and went to the grocery store to buy another one to replace it. She never suspected a thing.

And the more Cas looked at Tom Cruise’s face, the more he saw why middle aged moms found him attractive.

 

And then Anna found out.

Anna Novak is a pure as a Passover lamb, has been all her life, it seems.

She’s not one to curse.

But all Castiel could hear was the sounds of Bowie’s “ _ Rebel Rebel” _ and Anna pacing his floor, cursing in seemingly every language imaginable.

“Cas, why-why didn’t you tell me sooner? Does mom know?”

“Not yet, no.”

“You’re going to tell her though, right?”

“Of course, A. I’ll tell her.”

“Properly, I hope.”

Cas took a deep breath. Sometimes Anna got on his nerves  _ royally. _

“Yes, Anna. I’ll tell her properly.”

And so he told her.

“Mom, I’m attractive to boys.”

She did not scream, or curse, or threaten disownment.

She just said, in her soft, New England tone: "That's alright, Cas." And so it was written.

Castiel Novak was gay.

And nothing or no one could change that.


End file.
